


Shrink

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Little boys really shouldn’t play with wizarding tools.





	Shrink

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for mrpineapple42’s “gen lil!Estel, #16 or #18 (I interpreted 18 as person turns into domesticated animal? Is that right? Idk ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ) maybe a spell goes awry or some other silliness idk up to you” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/161379570810/au-prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

After a long, complicated conference between two very different creatures, Elrond’s more than ready to call it a night. He leaves the private room they spoke in, coming first into his study—the two wizards are still behind, still arguing in his wake. He half expects them to stay at it all night, but that’s their prerogative. He has a bed to greet and a young ward to attend to.

He finds, to his surprise, little Estel already waiting in his study. Estel must’ve managed, somehow, to give Erestor the slip, which he’s become almost as good at as Elladan and Elrohir were at his age. Fortunately, he’s less destructive, and Elrond supposes that if he must flee his instructor, better that he come here, instead of out into the valley. 

Unfortunately, he’s still managed to find mischief in Elrond’s chambers. He holds one of the wizard’s staff now in his tiny hands—Radagast’s, Elrond thinks—and swings it about like a sword. He’s always pestering to train with Glorfindel, though Elrond always tells him he’s much too young. He seems to be growing up in an awful hurry, and as he sees Elrond coming, he turns to wave the staff at Elrond, letting out a mighty battle cry that sounds almost comical from his little lungs. 

Elrond frowns deeply, though Estel’s grinning in delight. He comes only up to Elrond’s waist, but he looks quite confident in his victory. Elrond takes another step forward, now intending to scold him before the fall of bedtime. 

Estel makes another mock-stab and cries happily, “Presto!” just like Mithrandir has taught him in jest.

Only, Radagast’s staff is a very different thing, and, to Elrond’s horror, the end of it erupts in light that temporarily blots out the room. The flash is sharp enough to send Elrond stumbling back a step, his startled call for Estel swallowed in the thundering clap that accompanies the indoor lightening. Elrond topples, disoriented, back against the wall.

And then the room comes spinning back into focus, licked white around all the edges, the bright spell slowly receding to leave nothing in its wake. The staff is on the floor, and Estel is gone. 

A fluffy, little brown puppy sits on the rug in his place. Its wide eyes blink rapidly, its fuzzy head lifting up, nose sniffing wildly. Its long, floppy ears hang dolefully down its round face, and when it tries to stand, it has trouble managing on all four of its stubby legs. Its tail, long and shaggy, wags.

It barks twice at Elrond, and Elrond knows, with a horrible, sinking feeling, that his darling boy’s been mangled beyond recognition. He can see Estel’s childish innocence shining out of the dog’s black eyes, yet unaware of the horror that’s befallen him. Elrond is speechless for only a moment.

Then the dog—Estel, he’s sure of it—starts mouthing at the staff, and Elrond lurches forward, quickly scooping up the animal. Absurdly light, Estel squirms and whines in his arms. Elrond holds Estel tight and turns back for the door, ready to insist the wizards fix this _now_.

Mithrandir, fortunately, is already stepping through the doorway. Before Elrond even has a chance to explain, Mithrandir glances at the puppy trying desperately to escape Elrond’s arms, and mutters knowingly, “Oh dear.”

Radagast is at his side a second later, except there’s no recognition in Radagast’s old eyes as he spouts, “Oh, what a darling little fellow!” He steps forward and plucks Estel right out of Elrond’s grasp, lifting Estel high in the air and cooing, to which Estel barks and wags faster. Radagast instantly cuddles him close, petting behind his ears, and Estel alternates between barking more and nipping at Radagast’s baggy sleeve. Elrond isn’t sure if he’s more embarrassed for Estel or ashamed he let this happen. They’ll have to have a firm talk when this is over. And Elrond won’t even entertain the possibility that this madness _won’t_ end.

As Radagast starts waving his finger for Estel to paw at, Mithrandir sighs, “That ‘little fellow’ is Lord Elrond’s ward.”

Radagast looks up with eyes even bigger than usual, and Elrond explains, “I found him toying with your staff.” 

“Oh,” Radagast mumbles, before lighting up and resuming petting Estel’s head. “Wonderful, then! He was the one of the Men’s line, wasn’t he? Isildur or something or other? Well, the dark forces will never think to look for him in canine form.”

Elrond fixes Radagast with a look somewhere between worry and a glare. Mithrandir merely shakes his head. When it becomes clear that Radagast isn’t going to suggest anything else, Elrond tightly insists, “You will fix this _right this instant_.”

“But he’s so cute,” Radagast counters, looking bizarrely genuine. It’s all Elrond can do not to banish him from the valley.

With another disparaging look, Mithrandir carefully takes Estel from Radagast’s arms. Radagast looks sad to see him go, but Elrond’s glad of it—he knows now that Radagast will _never_ be allowed to baby-sit. Mithrandir sets Estel gingerly down on the floor, and Estel wags his tail hard enough to spot it in his peripherals, then promptly starts running in circles to try and catch it. 

“Look at that,” Radagast exclaims, as though this is perfectly acceptable behaviour for the heir to Gondor. “He’s having fun, too!”

“Radagast!” Elrond hisses, at the exact same moment Mithrandir orders, “Fix it!”

Radagast frowns at both of them. He looks thoroughly put out, but he still takes the staff Mithrandir fetches and hands to him. With a begrudging sigh, he mumbles something under his breath, then lowers the top of the staff down to lightly tap Estel on the head.

In a new burst of light, Estel finishes a spin and falls right over—fortunately, Elrond catches him in time. 

Before he can get into any more trouble—either himself or with silly wizards—Elrond promptly scoops him up. Estel flops dizzily against Elrond, groaning into his shoulder, and Elrond pets the poor thing’s hair back, murmuring, “Bed time for you, young man. And if I ever catch you toying with tools too big for you again, I’ll see that you’re practicing with a wooden sword still into your thirties.”

Estel instantly groans, “But _Elrond_ , I didn’t mean—” But he cuts off in a yawn, and Elrond rubs his back soothingly, shooting Radagast a warning look over his shoulder. Radagast shrugs sheepishly, and Mithrandir shakes his head. 

Elrond turns to leave, figuring both wizards can now see themselves out, only to pause at the realization that Estel’s tail is still wagging.

He glances back, and Radagast promises, “Er, that should go away eventually.”

So Elrond glares and carries Estel quickly off, lest anything worse should happen.


End file.
